Round here there is a consequence of living in such isolated beauty- driving.  We have managed to squeeze our weekday outings into one, and tend to leave the rest open for staying.  Staying feels good and safe and comfortable most days.  But on occasion, a good country drive feels well too.  Miles, Jasper and I were driving through the rainbow forests of fall yesterday feeling pretty good, noticing so much, shouting out the beauty of each corner, listening to some fine mellow music heading to a mushroom walk, because thats how we do it.  Generally, things were as good as they get.

The fog was thick and patchy with big shots of sparkly sun in between, I can see how it could have happened to anyone.  These back roads are winding and narrow, and you rarely see anyone walking or any need to lay on the breaks, it is easy to get lost in thought.  As we rounded another corner into a neighboring town, we slowed down to see something so sad and real and vivid it felt like a dream, or more like a nightmare.  A mousey brunette teenager was carrying her sweet, clearly beloved  and very injured dog, all wrapped in a towel, tears streaming down her face.  A car was parked nearby with a very disappointed driver, head down on the steering wheel in shame, sitting like cement inside.  The tragedy was obvious.  We were in a patch of sun.  Warm September sun.  The day was supposed to be perfect.  Memorable only for the warmth we are now late enough in the season to truly appreciate.

We took the rest of the day slow.  Intention in every step.  Love pouring out my fingertips reaching to soothe that girl and her family for their loss or suffering.  I am not sure which.

We are going to enjoy this September day because it just won’t come again.